


With the Gun in My Hand

by zcl219



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Sex, Ass to Mouth, Blow Jobs, Bottom Frank Castle, But only if you squint, Consensual Non-Consent, Couch Sex, Gun Kink, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Coital Cuddling, Rough Oral Sex, Smut, Top Matt Murdock, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:54:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27164849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zcl219/pseuds/zcl219
Summary: Frank likes it when Matt points a gun at him. So much so that he's willing to break into Matt's home to see what happens next.
Relationships: Frank Castle/Matt Murdock
Comments: 10
Kudos: 76





	With the Gun in My Hand

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [But I Don't Own A Single Gun](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12329955) by [oliviathecf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oliviathecf/pseuds/oliviathecf). 
  * Inspired by [Buzz](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10773465) by [Tulikettu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tulikettu/pseuds/Tulikettu). 



_“You know me more than anybody_

_You got me with the gun in my hand_

_But I don't care about anybody but you_

_Don't tell me that we're done_

_I know you more than anybody_

_I'll make it up to you, I swear_

_Cause I don't care about anybody but you”_

-“On the Run” by Dance Gavin Dance

It’s one thing for Matt Murdock and Frank Castle to have sex in alleys or on rooftops. It’s sloppy and impromptu and as soon as it’s over one of them can disappear into the night while the other cleans up. It’s another thing for Frank to break into Matt’s home, looking for the same treatment.

Matt has Frank on the ground, his foot on Frank’s chest, keeping him from getting a full breath. A cut above Frank's eyebrow reopened in their scuffle, sending a fresh scent of blood into the air. There’s little of the blood scent on Frank’s skin tonight. It tells Matt that the gun he’d taken off Frank in their tussle wasn’t used tonight, nor were his fists. Matt holds that gun steady now, aiming at Frank’s neck, rather than right at his forehead.

This gun isn’t so different from the ones he’s already taken from Frank after encounters like this. He’s spent a lot of time holding them, getting accustomed to them, so each time he’s more and more confident in his grip.

“What’re you gonna do with that, Red?” Frank asks. A smirk pulls on his lips, which are parted slightly as he takes his shallowed breaths.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Matt says. The gun in his hand is only warm from where it had been pressed against Frank’s body. Not the usual scorching heat of a well-used weapon from Frank Castle. The warmth of Frank’s breath where it leaves his mouth makes his smug smirk more apparent. Matt thinks of sending him away, the same way he has thought about doing before on the streets. But he didn’t then. And Matt feels heat pooling in his stomach while his brain announces things they can do here that they could never do out there.

“That’s real power you’re holding right there,” Franks words hitch some from his uneven breaths, but Matt can feel the heat radiating off his skin, especially below the waist. “That’s the way to get people to do whatever you want.”

For a half of a half of a second Matt knows where to aim, if what he wanted was Frank dead. And then Matt chases that away, focusing instead on the elevated heart rate of the man under him. And again, his mind is saying things they could do here, that they could never do out there in the open world. Matt leans in, putting more weight onto Frank’s chest and making his breaths even shallower. “When I take my foot off your ribs, you’re going to get up nice and slow.”

“Okay,” Frank responds, voice low and gravely as ever. Matt releases Frank’s chest, and Frank does as he promised. Matt keeps his posture steady and says, “Get undressed, Frank.”

“And if I don’t?” Frank asks.

Matt thumbs back the hammer.

He feels Frank’s adrenalin spike, and his already elevated heart rate flutter. It brings a wave of aroused scent from Frank’s skin, which gets stronger when his clothes come off. With his skin bare to Matt’s senses, he can drink Frank in completely. His cock is half hard from their initial scuffle and this bit of weaponry foreplay. It’s Frank’s favorite thing they do. Frank hasn’t said as much, but Matt knows that him pointing a gun at Frank is the fastest way to get him turned on.

“Hands on your head,” Matt says. Frank does as he’s told just as slowly as he’d stood and undressed. Matt starts walking forwards, and Frank backs away a half step at a time until Matt has gotten Frank to the sofa. He flicks the gun downward, and Frank sits just as slowly. Matt closes the distance between them. He presses the muzzle of the gun to the center of Frank’s forehead. With Frank naked, Matt truly feels how the blood rushes to Frank’s cock, making his skin unbearably hot there.

“You did this to me once,” Matt says, his low voice even. He feels Frank’s face stretching into a half smirk.

“I sure did,” Frank says. That night on the roof Matt had shoved the gun away when he felt it press against his helmet.

Frank though. Frank leans into the gun, making his heart pulse harder and pushing more of his intense scent of want into the air around them. Matt slides the barrel of the gun down over Frank’s brow, his nose, his lips, which part at the touch of metal. Matt slides further down, getting under Frank’s chin, and uses it to tilt his face up. Matt has his face angled down at Frank, letting him see his own expression clearly. Frank’s arms are growing tired behind his head. Matt removes the gun from under Frank’s chin, and takes a half step back. A few scant inches of air hang between Frank and the firearm. Frank licks his bottom lip. Matt hears his mouth fill with saliva. Frank leans in. He’s careful when he flicks his tongue over the tip, making Matt’s cock ache. Then he lets his lips wrap around the end, the stiff metal heating gently in his mouth.

Most of the time, Frank likes to suck on his gun while Matt gets hard from the sound and display of him like that. Then when Matt’s hard enough, the gun is put aside and Matt’s cock replaces it in Frank’s mouth. But they’d always stayed clothed out there, even with the cover of night. Matt knows his apartment’s lights are on (he’d heard Frank flick the switch just before launching his ‘attack’) but it doesn’t make them feel exposed. They’re safe here, inside, warm, and completely alone together.

Matt notices Frank tilting his head back so he can look up and clearly see Matt’s face. Matt wishes in that moment that he could see Franks's eyes staring into his own while he pulls back from the gun almost completely. Frank leaves only the tip of the weapon in his mouth and swirls his tongue around the end of the barrel. Frank lets a low moan escape and sucks harder before taking most of the metal back in. Matt feels himself pulsing in his ears and in his groin. And Matt can feel Frank so much easier when he’s naked. Matt can feel exactly how hard Frank is, even though Frank hasn’t touched himself. He’s let his arms fall from his head, but his hands rest on his thighs instead of reaching for himself. If Frank were kneeling on the floor instead of sitting on the sofa, Matt would’ve pushed his foot forward until Frank could feel it, then let him rut there while getting Matt off. He’d done it a few times. Frank always came from that, and left those encounters with an extra heated shame emanating off his skin.

Frank’s moans get bigger, less self-conscious, but still low enough to sound genuine. He gets sloppier, leaving a lot of saliva behind when he pulls his mouth away. Frank’s breaths come hard. He licks a strip up the length of the weapon, then spits onto the metal before taking it back in. Matt thrusts the weapon deeper into his mouth, and he feels both of them harden further with the action.

“You’re lubing this gun, aren’t you? And not the way you’re used to.”

Frank half laughs, half groans, and Matt pulls the gun away. Frank gasps, his mouth hanging open. “You want it. I can feel it.”

“Uh huh.”

“Say it, Frank,” Matt leans forward and pushes a hand through Frank’s hair. Frank has had several haircuts since they’ve been doing this. He could use another one, but the current length gives Matt something to hold onto. He feels Frank push up into the touch.

“Fuck me, Red.”

“Fuck you how?” Matt’s voice is low and greedy, and Frank’s is gruff when he answers.

“My gun.”

“Say it.”

“Fuck me with my gun, Red. Please. I need it.”

“You need it?” Matt drags the barrel down Frank’s neck, and a layer of goosebumps rise over his skin.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Matt asks again, pressing the wet metal into Frank’s collarbone.

“Yeah,” he repeats. Frank doesn’t realize it, but he’s already pulled one of his knees up towards his chest. Matt can better see, better feel, the way Frank’s opening clenches wantonly. It sends more of the deliciously needy scent of Frank being aroused into the space around them. It’s mixed with the usual scents of Frank: coffee, gunpowder, ivory soap, Kevlar, leather. And underneath all of that Matt now picks up on the lingering scents of lubricant and saline. Matt lets his face curl into a knowing grin, which makes Frank’s heartrate spike from its already heightened state. Knowing that Frank had prepared for this makes Matt bolder. Matt grab’s Frank’s other leg and shoves it up towards his chest. Frank wraps his arm around it to hold it in place. Matt kneels on the couch between Frank’s legs and guides the gun down between them.

Frank gasps at the press of wet metal against his opening.

“I’d ask if you need to be prepped, but we both know you don’t need it,” Matt says. Frank’s hips twitch, but he doesn’t push for more.

“No,” Frank says, his breathy tone making it an agreement

“You hoped I’d finally fuck you tonight.”

“Yeah,” Frank agrees again, need edging into his voice. Matt pulls the weapon away, and a groan rises out of Frank’s chest, high enough that it’s verging on a whimper. He points it away from them both and leans in close, so his mouth is right beside Frank’s ear.

“Tell me, before I shove this gun inside you, can I uncock it without it going off?”

“Uh…uh…” Frank stammers, and Matt feels him trying to focus. “Yeah. Yeah, this one, you can.”

“You’re sure,” Matt asks, serious.

“Yeah,” Frank says. Matt points the weapon towards the ceiling, knowing there’s nobody on the roof. They hold their breath as Matt thumbs the lever back into place. They both exhale when all they hear are the mechanism within adjusting once again. Then Matt lowers the instrument back to press it against Frank’s opening. Some of Frank’s saliva is dry now, and Matt knows it’s going to hurt like hell if it goes in that way. He pulls back from Frank’s ear, works up a mouthful of spit, then lets it fall down onto the metal. He uses the tip to work it in, and Frank moans in a way Matt knows he’ll dream about later.

The action reminds Matt of one of their previous encounters. He’d yanked Frank off of his cock without warning and spat into his mouth. He hadn’t known why he wanted to do it them, just that he’d wanted to and he could, so he did. Frank had been surprised, then went back to working Matt over with a mouthful of spit from them both.

Frank gives way to the weapon with relative ease. Matt is careful, still. He can feel where Frank is and is not relaxed within himself, and he’s also aware of how he adjusts his grip so it’s only around the handle, clear of the trigger. Frank pulls his knees tighter to his chest. With every push deeper, Matt feels Frank whimper. Fucking whimper. The goddamned Punisher, sitting here on his couch, with one of his own weapons shoved inside of himself.

And Matt is the one doing it to him.

Frank removes a hand from one of his legs and tweaks his nipple. His mouth falls open and his breath comes out hot and needy. Every few seconds Frank’s mouth fills with spit, and Frank licks his lips before swallowing it down. The sight of it, the sound of it, makes Matt leak. He reaches out and presses his thumb against Frank’s bottom lip. Frank takes it into his mouth and sucks hard. Matt presses his thumb down onto Frank’s tongue, and he sucks harder. Matt feels Frank’s teeth leaving marks around the base of his thumb.

“You need more,” Matt says. Frank moans in agreement, and the vibrations shoot up Matt’s arm and down his spine. If it had been longer than a few days since their last encounter, Matt would’ve come right then and there. Matt removes his thumb and smears it over Frank’s other nipple, making him hiss and his hips rock down against the metal inside himself.

It takes a few moments of readjusting until they’re on their sides in a 69 position, after Matt kicks off his pants and underwear. Their new position lets Matt keep his hand around the handle while also letting Frank indulge in sucking Matt off properly. Frank has a far easier time sucking Matt down than he did the weapon. His head bobbing is quicker, rougher now. It takes a lot of focus for Matt to keep the gun moving. He tries to reangle it, looking for Frank’s prostate. He knows Frank is going to be something else when he finds it. The sounds of his whimpers are enough to drive Matt crazy, and he wants to know how Frank sounds when he’s at his most pleasured. Frank slings one of his legs over Matt’s side. The intense heat of Frank’s cock so close to his face is tempting. He can feel it pulsing harder than before, can taste Frank’s precum in the air between them. _Later,_ he thinks. He wants to see if he can really get the Punisher off just by fucking him with his own gun, now that he’s doing it.

Frank pulls away and sniffles, not with tears of emotion, but tears of strain from working Matt so well. Matt listens to make sure Frank’s okay, just in case, and after a few seconds he hears Frank say, “Red, I need you.”

“Now?” Matt asks, hearing more exasperation in his voice than he means to convey.

“Yeah, now. I want you in me when I cum.”

 _Oh, for fuck’s sake,_ Matt thinks. He digs his nails into the palm of his free hand to keep himself from cumming right there.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Matt thrusts the gun the deepest it’s been, but it’s still not reaching his prostate. Frank clenches and hisses again.

“I’ll keep sucking it. I’ll suck it until you cum, I promise. Just fuck me, please.”

 _Until you cum_. Like this is about Matt. Except, Matt would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy Frank and his strange, violent kink.

“Please, Matt,” Frank says, then leans in and sucks one of Matt’s balls into his desperately hot mouth.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Matt curses. The move is sudden, and more degrading than Frank usually goes for. But some of the shock comes from Matt hearing his own name said with such want. It’s not just Red that Frank wants. Not just the guy that beats people bloody and makes criminals afraid. He wants Matt, too. Frank wants Matt to fuck him.

Of course, Matt tells him, “Okay,” when he finds his voice again. He pulls the implement out of Frank, making him half gasp, half moan. Again they maneuver, and for a half-second Matt wishes they were on the bed. They’d have more room, and Matt wouldn’t need to walk away to get a condom. The second Matt is on his feet Frank grabs his wrist. “Don’t.”

“Frank, I-”

“No you don’t. Cum in me.”

Matt shudders. He wants to. And why shouldn’t he? He hasn’t been with anyone else since they started this. Frank hasn’t either. Or at least, he hadn’t been with anyone before this started. But now?

“Frank-”

“Could you do that? For me, Matt?”

Matt remembers the roof. Being chained up. He remembers Frank’s words, and they echo in his ears now. _Walk away? Could you do that?_ The answer Matt’s mind gives now is the same one he gave then, though it feels like he’s answering two different questions: no.

Matt nods, and drops himself between Frank’s legs. Frank is rolled onto his back now. He slings one of his legs around Matt’s hips. Matt pauses a moment, running his hands down over Frank’s chest, stomach, and thighs, just feeling the plains of muscle that are now burning with need. It’s a momentary gesture. Frank moans, and so does Matt. In the next instant Matt is guiding himself into Frank, and both of them make noises they’ve never made in front of each other before. Frank’s is a high groan. Matt’s is akin to a growl, more like a sound Frank would make. After the gun, Matt finds he slots easily into Frank.

Matt remembers Frank’s request. He reaches back and grabs it, and part of him thinks he’ll put it aside until he hears yet again the way Frank’s heart reacts to the sight of the weapon. He’s careful with it now, more than he was before, but he doesn’t have to be. Frank moans once the muzzle is in his mouth. His left hand wraps around Matt’s wrist in an iron grip, making sure he can’t pull away. His broken nails dig into Matt’s wrist, but don’t break through. They break what’s just beneath, leaving a handful of short, thin bruises.

Matt doesn’t need to be gentle with Frank. Within seconds the sound of skin slapping skin mixes with the sound of their labored, wanting vocalizations. Matt doesn’t have it in him to bother with pacing. His thrusts are staccato and so are Frank’s hips where they thrust down to meet him. Frank sucks harder on the weapon than before, making his breathing more and more erratic. The sounds he makes around the gun are whimpers. And then more than whimpers. More effortful. Matt pulls the weapon back a half of a centimeter but Frank clutches his wrist tighter. Frank, in his desperately fucked-out state is either saying “Matt” or “Red” with his mouth still around the gun. Matt fucks him harder, and the word trapped in Frank’s mouth becomes less defined with every thrust.

Frank stuffs the gun a little deeper into his mouth, makes his moans a little louder, and fuck, fuck, Frank has his eyes open wide and looking right into Matt’s again, like he’s making sure Matt can see him. Matt can’t see him that way, but Matt sees so much more. He sees past Frank. He sees into Frank. Matt feels the tension winding Frank’s muscles tighter and tighter.

Frank reaches his free hand up and rubs Matt’s nipple through his shirt, sending even more flares of pleasure into the mix. Matt feels himself winding up, not knowing who’ll be first. They’re both so close, both of them leaking and throbbing and spasming.

It’s Matt that succumbs to orgasm first. He doesn’t have time to announce it. He yells as the hot pleasure rips through him and short-circuits the rest of his senses. At first he’s not yelling anything, but then he hears Frank’s name form on his lips. And while Matt is still wringing out his own pleasured high, Frank follows him over the edge. Frank sends hot spurts up over his stomach and chest, all without his cock being touched once. He grips Matt’s wrist tight enough that he knows it’s going to bruise, keeping the fouled metal on his tongue while he cries out his own pleasured howl.

When Frank’s grip slackens, and Matt feels his own body turning to jelly, Matt pulls the gun out of Frank’s mouth and falls on top of him. Frank’s lips are hot and suck-swollen, and gasping for breath. Matt leans in and kisses Frank. He hasn’t done that before. But he also hasn’t fucked Frank before. This is the longest encounter they’ve ever had, along with it being the most intense. Frank is still gasping for breath. Matt chases the vile taste of Frank and gunpowder and iron and Frank presses into the kiss, such as he can while still trembling. He throws an arm around Matt’s shoulders.

There’s a slackness to Frank’s whole body as they relax. The adrenalin wearing away, leaving behind memories and fried nerves. Matt listens to Frank’s heart settling back to its normal, even rhythm. His breathing too. Matt’s aware of his shirt being the last article of clothing separating them. He’s too tired to pull it off though. He’s so tired that he feels his eyes closing. He jerks them open, the motion tricking his brain into awakening. With every second that the two of them stay this close it’s something to enjoy.

“Do you need anything,” Matt asks, his voice low and inviting, more like his usual self. Frank reaches over and rests a hand on Matt’s back.

“Just stay with me, Red.” His voice is sore, and Matt can hear Frank is also struggling to stay awake.

“Yeah, sure,” Matt says. They’re easy words to say, but he says them like he’s surprised by the request. So easy, but so unexpected. And then Frank’s lips press gently against Matt’s cheek, making a new affection blossom in Matt’s chest. Matt pulls over the blanket from the back of the sofa to cover them. He rests his arm over Frank’s chest. His fingers start tracing a scar there, long and thin rather than the blunt round from a bullet. The motion soothes Frank, and Matt can tell he’s lulling Frank off. But he doesn’t want that. Matt is afraid of them falling asleep, because he’s sure he’ll next awaken alone.

“Can I keep this one too?” Matt asks, his pinky leaving Frank’s skin to gesture to the discarded weapon on the floor. Frank grumbles, a low noise, and nods slightly. Matt lets his hand still, feeling the outlines of strong muscle. Matt focuses in on Frank’s breathing, which raises and lowers his shoulders at a steady pace.

“Think you’ll ever use ‘em?” Frank asks, his voice closer to its usual gruffness, but still soft so close to Matt’s ear, and so close to sleep. Matt remembers the flash before, of understanding where he’d aim. He angles his face towards Frank’s, trying to look him in the eye. Frank notices, lifting his head to look at him clearly.

“If I ever went the way of guns…if I decided to be you…Frank, it’d be carnage. Completely and utterly. There’d be no way of stopping me.”

Matt doesn’t know how his face looks, but it must be enough to convince Frank. Matt expects a rebuttal that will lead to one of their usual moral arguments. Instead, while the two of them sit curled under a throw blanket, he feels Frank’s skin raise in goosebumps. A fear creeps into Matt that he’s broken this strange, delicate moment. Then Frank raises a hand from under the blanket and grazes his knuckles over Matt’s cheek. The coarse hairs on the back of Frank’s fingers tickle his skin. Matt carefully leans into the touch. He lets his eyes close, lets himself be comforted. By Frank Castle. The fucking Punisher. The man that asks for sex by breaking into Matt’s house. This is who Matt takes comfort in. Him and his steady heart and his warm hands and his oddly relaxed body.

The scent of Frank, and of Frank and himself, is going to linger on this couch for weeks.

A thought crosses Matt’s mind. He wants to say it out loud. It’s connected to Frank’s last comment. He thinks of something that sounds so odd in his head, but when he says it out loud it comes out…sweet. “I only keep them because they remind me of you.”

Matt’s afraid for a second that he’ll feel another wave of goosebumps, or maybe something worse than that spark of fear. Instead, Frank’s heart stutters a moment, and then his fingers move to cup the back of Matt’s neck. “Okay,” Frank murmurs, like it’s a promise, even though it’s Matt’s actions that are up for discussion. The sentiment settles in Matt’s heart and makes him feel warm.

He lets Frank pull him in. The kiss tastes the same as before but it feels gentler. It feels like love. Matt won’t say it, but he can feel it, and he knows by how Frank’s heart trembles that he feels it too.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Kinktober everyone! This piece was such fun to write even though I put off a lot of other stuff to work on it. I hope you all enjoyed reading it!
> 
> I’ve read a lot of Fratt over the last week, so this story contains a mess of Fratt tropes and ideas. That said, I would like to specifically credit two stories for inspiration:  
> 1.“But I Don’t Own a Single Gun” by oliviathecf (heavy gun kink, intensely awesome, definitely the story from which I drew the most inspiration)  
> 2.“Buzz” by Tulikettu (no gun kink, but the dynamic here is golden and I leaned into it for some of Frank’s characterization)


End file.
